


Jump

by yeaka



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: M/M, PWP, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 13:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10190657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Volga’s five minutes late; Ghirahim’s tongue couldn’t wait.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Legend of Zelda or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s late by a mere five minutes, because that witch Impa insisted on grilling him about their pact. Volga is an honourable warrior, and as he told her, if he swore to serve the princess, he _meant_ it. Even if, though he’ll never admit it aloud, it’s a different soldier he’s fighting for. 

He reaches another new ally’s quarters and slips through the tall door, into the candlelit bedchambers, ready to finally be rid of all his hulking armour. The second he’s taken his helmet off, he freezes, eyes fixed upon the bed, where he fully expected to find two men calmly waiting for him.

Instead, Link, the gorgeous piece of mortal treasure Volga switched sides for, is already stripped bare, creamy skin flushed and sweat-slicked in the candlelight. He’s bent on all fours like an animal, face pressed against the sheets, neck pinned down by glove-covered fingers. Ghirahim sits primly behind his catch, holding Link down with the usual vindictive smile, and promptly bends to swipe his snake-like tongue straight from the top of Link’s ass down his arched spine. 

Link shivers and moans lewdly into the sheets, rear bucking up, but Ghirahim only leans out of reach, chuckling darkly. Link makes a frustrated noise that’s quickly drowned out by Volga’s furious roar: “You started without me!”

Ghirahim gives him an idle glance and purrs, “You were late.” Link fidgets beneath him, and Ghirahim darts to catch each of Link’s wrists instead, holding them tight against the mattress. Link twitches but doesn’t fight, even though Volga knows all too well the strength that lies inside him; he’s never half so helpless as Ghirahim seems to think him. 

Ghirahim nods Volga closer and drawls, “But you’ve arrived at a good time, my friend. I’ve just finished licking out our little fucktoy.” Volga’s eyes widen around the edges, and Link lets out another low moan, ass squirming, thighs spreading—his cock hangs hard and untouched between his legs. It would be just like Ghirahim to take and take and deny poor Link any pleasure. Licking his pale lips, Ghirahim continues, “I stuffed him as full as he could take, caressed him open and wet him up—he’s never been so stretched and soaking.” Link’s face is growing redder—he turns to hide it from Volga’s prying eyes. “His tight hole’s never been more ready for his betters...” At another of Link’s muffled noises, Ghirahim leans down to lap at Link’s shoulders, and Link cries out wildly and squirms like mad in Ghirahim’s grip, shaking with obvious arousal. He’s leaking precum onto his thighs, but Ghirahim pays that no mind, merely licks the sweat off Link’s lean back and coos, “I bet, when he’s this prepared and desperate, he could even take a dragon’s cock... don’t you, o _hero_?” The word is mocking, but Link whines and bucks up nonetheless, turning his face to peek at Volga again. His eyes are completely dilated, lashes heavy, cheeks pink. 

He opens his mouth, and Volga thinks, for the first time since Volga’s had the pleasure of knowing him, that he might actually _beg_ with words.

But Ghirahim wraps a feral tongue around his ear, and he gasps instead, devolving again into incoherent whimpers. It doesn’t truly matter; the damage is done.

Volga’s anger has turned right into lust, and he hisses to Ghirahim, “Move over,” as he storms towards the bed.


End file.
